


Well-intended

by fiammy



Series: Gift Writing and Other Works [4]
Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Family, Gen, Gift Fic, implied trauma, other kokuyo gang members mentioned but they don't really appear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 07:31:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17157851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiammy/pseuds/fiammy
Summary: When it comes to trauma-versaries, Mukuro's pretty good at keeping them to himself. Ken and Chikusa, though, have other plans.[Written for KHR! Secret Santa 2018]





	Well-intended

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Trilies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trilies/gifts).



Until Mukuro returned to Kokuyo-land in flesh, Ken and Chikusa had relied on Chrome to let them know he was… Doing. Even though the both of them always got the same answer because _what else could I possibly be doing chained up six feet underwater, Ken?_ Chikusa still prays for the other to magically gain an understanding of sarcasm, to this day. To be fair, Mukuro had a way with words and even he struggled to tell if he actually meant anything he was saying at times. 

Still, even with him now here, Mukuro remained elusive and cryptic as he always was since childhood, maybe even as expected of him as a Mist. Then again, none of the Kokuyo Gang were concerned with Vongola, at least not as much as Chrome and Mukuro were. This wasn’t about Vongola, though, and Chrome, as much as Ken and Chikusa missed her presence, was out of the picture. This was about Mukuro. 

Because he had been away for so long, the only way Mukuro got a grasp on the situation at Kokuyo Land was through possession, and he could only do it so often. It was only after the situations with Daemon and Vindice that he bore full witness to the common occurrences at home. Most of the time, he had absolutely nothing to worry about. In fact, now that he was back, he went out of his way to assert how he had appreciated some peace of mind away from his gang’s antics even if it meant being imprisoned… 

“I don’t think he really means that,” Chikusa said, as he and Ken sat on the roof of one of Kokuyo Land’s other abandoned buildings, planning. Hopefully, neither Mukuro nor his owl were watching from somewhere. “Mukuro, I mean.” 

At least alone, they were free to talk about him as someone they knew instead of worked under. Not that they minded it, being extremely loyal, but they felt obligated to be concerned about him every now and then. Ken on the other hand, furiously scratched out another bad idea on his notepad. Chikusa noted his terrible grip on his pencil, consequence of them never properly going to school, and mused that whatever the other had written down, was probably in too poor a script to be legible to even himself. 

“Of course he doesn’t! But you and I both-“ he paused to rip out the paper and crumple it up. “-would die before he says it to our face. I know he’s hiding it.” If he was true to his namesake, his ears would have flattened to match his saddened look, but Chikusa pinched himself lest he laugh at the mental image and offend the other. “It’s Mukuro… but…” 

“I get it. You’re right.” 

They stayed silent for a long time. In the distance, birds were chirping as the sun began to set. While Mukuro was gone, the two of them weren’t sure if he was watching them while their bodies were… reminded, of what they had gone through years before. It wasn’t as unpleasant as the nightmares they had as kids, but they were unwelcome nonetheless. Ken would become extremely inconsolable until it passed, and the already distant Chikusa would become a walking unresponsive shell that would suddenly crash and need to be reminded that everyone was trustworthy again. 

If Mukuro was watching them then, he either didn’t care and it was Chrome’s own kindness that prompted her to try and comfort them, or his silent instructions. But they were sure it wasn’t easy for him too, especially given the whole… Remembering things from six past lives. If he wouldn’t remember from the two of telling him (but they wouldn’t. Their hurt minds learned to appreciate whatever ignorance they could get), in a few days his body would remind him of what… _they_ … had done to him. And they wanted to fill that day with as much distractions as possible, hopefully to counter whatever negative feelings he could feel. Would he show them? No. But the two of them were smarter than they let on to be confident that Mukuro would appreciate this if he were in their place… 

“How troublesome. You know, we’re overthinking this.” 

Ken cursed in agreement but earned a hard look from the other male, before scratching at his hair. Chikusa hoped that whatever they ended up deciding on doing, would result in Ken getting a bath. To ease the mood, he sighed. It was getting dark now. 

“Pretty sure we can’t mess this up too badly.” 

Ken hoped so. 

* * *

Although Mukuro was not one to dwell on the past, it came back to him against his will from time to time, and although it didn’t cause him to have as… severe… a reaction as Ken and Chikusa, it was exhausting to deal with nonetheless. This time, though, he eased into the morning with a relatively cool head. A rare occurrence, and though wary, he decided to appreciate it while he still could. 

“Hm…?” 

Rubbing his eyes and sitting up, he found a tray placed some distance away from his form, on his bed. A tray of… breakfast? 

He didn’t remember any of the Kokuyo Gang members being able to cook… Even if they could, they didn’t have gas. It might have been ordered out, but was it? Ken and Chikusa were too prideful to take money from Mukuro (although the same could not be said for _illusionary_ money, although Mukuro was not one to gamble with the law, entertaining as it was) and so clearly instead of snacks, this was what they’d opted for. _Either way, curious._ Clearly it had been here for quite some time, at least enough for it to go cold, since it wasn’t covered up with anything… Proper household items were not the gang’s priority, but, it looked appetizing nonetheless. His eyes were drawn to a neatly folded note, which he gingerly took up to read while scratching his side with the other hand. Of course. It featured a poorly spelt message in an illegible handwriting by Ken, crossed out and replaced with a much neater and formal message by Chikusa at the bottom: 

> _~~HEY!!! Get up sleepyhead!!!! We went all the way to get this for you, so you better show up downstairs or I’ll drag you out!!!~~ _
> 
> _Good morning, Mukuro-san. Please enjoy this, we thought you’d like it._

Mukuro definitely thought he’d enjoy this more if it was a warm meal, and questioned the choice of a written note over a text, but this was sufficient. It wasn’t fair to expect too much out of the two of them. Though, it impressed him that they had managed to enter his room and place this here without waking him up— 

Drawing his trident to his hand with illusions, he swung and plunged it deep into the invisible but definitely existent figure sitting on the edge of his bed. The floating piece of buttered toast promptly dropped back onto the plate. 

“Fran. You’re starting to make me think you’re asking for it at this point.” 

His student, now materialized, pouted at the three new holes placed in his hat and shuddered at the other’s forced smile. “Geez, okay, sorry….” 

…Despite that inconvenience, everything else about this day so far was charming. 

* * *

“Stop cheating.” 

“Piss off!! You’re just mad you’re losing.” 

“….” 

Mukuro lingered a little longer in the threshold of their living room, watching the two of them furiously engaged in some fighting game, as usual. Although, he noted it was a newer game and a newer console, and wondered when they had managed to purchase it. Probably while he was gone. Speaking of missing people, other than Fran, M.M. was no where to be found. Probably was doing the right thing and went out to avoid their antics. Amused, he plopped onto the couch while nursing a water bottle. 

“You could certainly use a class in sportsmanship, Ken,” he said, smiling at the jolt from both of them, before taking a casual sip from his bottle. 

After his initial fear faded, Ken flashed a grin. “What use is that?! Hey. Mukuro-san.” 

“Mhm?” 

“I’ll think about it if you can beat me.” 

“Nonsense. I won’t participate in something so..” He paused to squint at the game. “Brutish.” 

“He’s right.” 

“Thank you, Ch-” 

“Play against me instead, Mukuro-san. It’s no fun with a cheater.” As soon as he stopped talking, Chikusa quickly dodged a swipe from Ken and they started bickering as usual, but if Mukuro wasn’t sure if they were serious before, he was now. What was with their insistence? Was today some special occasion that he was unaware of? Even if it was… It put a much warmer feeling inside his chest to think that they were doing this just because they wanted to… 

“…. Honestly.” Sighing, Mukuro waved his hand in wait for one of them to hand him a controller, laughing slightly. “You two are hopeless.” 

Their only responses were smiles. In their defense, he’d been their destruction-bent gang leader for long enough. He deserved to be a kid like them, even for a little while. 

“Can I ask, what’s with the water guns over there?” 

“We get to chase the loser around with those, Mukuro-san. It’ll be fun.” 

“Kufufu… It sounds so.” 

“WHAT?! Hey, hold up- We didn’t agree on this!!!” 

“It’s fine, Ken. You might win. I don’t know how to play.” 

“Here, let me show you…” 

A little while to spend with their real friend, was more than enough. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks again Trilies, glad you enjoyed it :) Happy Holidays!
> 
> For everyone else, I have a whole bunch of other (much older) fics that I'd written for the same event too, if you'd like to see them, let me know! I could put them in a small series with this one too.
> 
> If you've enjoyed, check me out on tumblr for more cool stuff, otherwise kudos and comments are always appreciated <3


End file.
